


Eat Me

by Hollow Girl (Dejahvu)



Series: Eat Me [1]
Category: Pitch Black (2000), The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-06 09:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4216944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dejahvu/pseuds/Hollow%20Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fiona has been with Riddick since he saved her life, keeping out of his way as best she can. Her position isn't clear but all she knows is that she can't leave his side. When they are captured and lost on the planet with the rest of the survivors will she realize that Riddick is truly only an animal?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eat Me

**Eat Me**

A Riddick Fan Fiction by Hollow Girl

* * *

 

**Summary:**  Fiona has been with Riddick since he saved her life, keeping out of his way as best she can. Her position isn't clear but all she knows is that she can't leave his side. When they are captured and lost on the planet with the rest of the survivors will she realize that Riddick is truly only an animal or will he overcome that stigma to be something more?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters of the original story line and script that is Pitch Black. I am merely borrowing them to showcase a story that has been in my head for ages. My original character, Fiona, is however all mine. She is who is is for a reason, and I ask you to respect that. Please do not borrow, take, or copy her. Her significant differences in mannerisms and ways are essential to her situation in the story. 

* * *

 

**Characters**

Riddick

Fiona

Johns


	2. Chapter One

She struggled with the chains on her ankles, her wrist cuffs having been broken free when half of her cryo tube was ripped off. The crash had given her a few cuts and bruises; nothing she couldn't handle. Her eyes glanced out among the wreckage as she helplessly tried to jimmy the lock that connected her ankle cuffs to the tube with one of the many bobby pins she had tucked away in her hair. She could see at least three dead bodies on the ground, ripped open from the impact and then blown out of the tubes.

The last time she had been awake the ship was in one piece; the captain and his crew had all been standing around with ten guards to monitor them. The last thing she remembered seeing was _his_ smile as he chuckled at her from outside the tube. Blue-eyed devil.

Her eyes scanned where there had been a wall when they first arrived, finding only a broken down structure and the remnants of the docking pilots station just beyond. The support bars of the ship had not been ripped down, and much to her surprise she saw the only other “Do Not Open” cryo tube leaned against one, in fine condition save for the broken glass.

She could hear voices in the distance, cries for help.

Her eyes returned to the locks around her ankles, crying out with frustration.

“Come on Fiona, I wouldn't lock you up with something you could pick through, have more faith in me then that.” His thick southern accent was unmatched, and she knew it came with a lopsided grin. Johns leaned against a support beam, watching her with that smile on his face. Fiona gave up on the locks, leaning back against what was left of her tube.

“Riddick?” Her voice was rough from not speaking for days, _weeks, months..._

“Chained up. He left you here to rot, not much of a savior now is he?” Johns pulled a set of handcuffs from his back pocket, stepping towards her cautiously. She could fight, struggle with him, and see where it put her, but without the use of her feet he was more likely to knock her out before she got more than a few blows in. So she showed no signs of struggle, holding out her wrists for him and waiting patiently as he bent down and unhooked the foot shackles from the tube.

She didn't know what Riddick was but savior was not the title. He had saved her _in a way_ , but he had his own motives and she didn't question them. His continuous ability to give her strength was unspoken, and they both liked it that way.

“You're rather quiet Fiona, so unlike you.” Johns chuckled, that smile still plastered on his lips as he dragged her through the remains of the ship. He had injected her with a sleeping agent right after putting her in that tube, knowing she’d put up a struggle when given the chance. The drugs were still in her system, she could feel the lazy heavy feeling on her bones.

She stumbled through the rubble as he yanked on her like a toy, giving her more bruises to show. The blinding light came out of nowhere, Johns giving her a second to shield her eyes and take in the landscape.

“We crashed; pretty bad too. Only a handful of us alive.” He grabbed hold of her wrist, pulling her down a small dune of sand. They moved across the terrain around the broken ship, the fog in Fiona's mind slowly dissipating. The heat felt like it was sucking up her body, forcing her system to kick into over drive and burn burn burn as it tried to keep her cool. The shit Johns had shot her with would be out of her system in no time.

“Shouldn't have picked a ghost lane Johns, bad move on your part.” She tried to pull away from him; already knowing it wouldn't do her much good. He kept his grip firm on her wrist as they rounded the ship. Fiona took in the sight of the survivors, a mismatched set of people that on any regular day wouldn't function.

“You're not here to think Fiona, shut the fuck up.”

“Smooth, _officer._ ” She winced, and he held on tighter, pulling her forward towards the group. Her relationship with Johns was even more complicated then the one she shared with Riddick. The merc's struggle with wanting to trade her in for cash over wanting to fuck her brains out was written all over his face. He had tried both in their extent of knowing one another; all failed attempts. Another thanks to Riddick she would never verbally give him.

Everyone was watching them approach, Fiona kicking up sand, her feet heavier than she remembered. She lifted her eyes from the bright ground to watch a tall slender woman advance, blonde hair catching fire in the sun. Her face was set in contemplation as she met them half way.

The woman looked her over, not fully recognizing who Fiona was. The truth was Fiona's role in life was hardly ever spoken of. She only had the recognition she did because of Riddick; and usually that was never pleasant. Mostly she was called a whore, piece of pussy he kept with him when he got bored.

She didn't feel the need to tell them they were wrong; it wouldn't amount to any good.

“I'm surprised they both survived, that compartment you were all in was ripped completely out.” Carolyn Fry's eyes never left Fiona's face as she spoke to Johns.

“She's not as weak as she looks. I am going to lock her up with the other one.” Johns gave Carolyn a dry smile before pulling Fiona along with him, trying desperately to make it look consensual. Rustling any kind of fear in the group in his direction would be futile to any plan he had.

Just like that they were back inside the ship, the tubes and metal moved out of the way in this part. They had already started scavenging. Johns weaved them through the ship, heading back further into the darker area's where the sun only hit the ground because of puncture holes. She saw his form just up ahead of them, hunched over slightly, the bit still in his mouth.

A cloth had been tied around his eyes, his hands secured behind him, arms wrapped around a support beam. His feet were locked together to prevent any movement at all. Fiona looked at her _savior_ as Johns secured a place to hook her up as well.

Riddick sensed their arrival almost instantly, his head tilting in her direction. He could probably see faintly through the cloth around his eyes, his shine job not helping however. She nodded her greeting, turning her eyes to Johns as he fiddled with a blowtorch on the ground. She watched him melt the buckling of an ankle cuff to the flooring of the ship, creating a sturdy loop.

When he stood up completely he threw the blowtorch up high over a beam in the ceiling, taking a hold of her and forcing her arms up above her head. Her cuffs were then connected to a parallel beam up top, forcing her hands high in the sky. A grin formed on his face as his hands began to scale down her body, working their way precariously down to her ankles.

Her mind flooded with voices, _whispers, grunts, groans_. Memories tried to break through her mental wall but she wouldn't let them.

When his fingers brushed skin on her waist she stared down at him, watching him pointedly. His attention was far too focused on her tiny waist to notice anything else going on; _foolish_. She quickly brought a knee up slamming it as hard as she could into his abdomen. He doubled over in pain, taking a step back from her and successfully removing his hands from her skin.

“Little bitch, should have doubled that dosage when I had the chance.” Johns winced, standing up slowly as he watched her. He was far enough away from her to prevent being kicked; something she was personally sad about.

“I suppose you'll remember next time not to touch me."

Johns thought about it for a second, his eyes bouncing between her and the loop in the ground. He meant to hook her feet down, hoping she would still be doped out from earlier. The struggle must have not seemed worth it as he shook his head, keeping a wide berth before departing the ship completely. She watched him go as much as she could. When silence was all that was around him she closed her eyes tight.

So much had happened so quickly. It felt like yesterday that she had arrived on the ship, only yesterday that they had been confirmed for drop off on Crematoria. Johns had been ecstatic. The trip was going to be long and hard, but Johns would cut corners as best he could; so he came up with the only option he could find at such short notice.

Fiona parted her eyes to look at Riddick, his head lolling, eyes assumed shut. She figured he kept her around because she kept out of his way. She was quiet, strong for her build, good with computers, and one hell of a pilot. She could make anything edible, and she kept to herself as much as possible. Plus she could keep up with him. The idea of him leaving her behind never came up because she made sure she was always with him. The truth was she didn't know if he would come back because she hadn't put him in that situation; something she was proud of.

Deep inside she reminded herself constantly that her life was not important to him; and that's how it needed to be. She couldn't rely on him because that would be when she would lose her own strength. She had to be there for herself.

He had found her on the road, naked, bloody. He had carried her where she told him to, took her bed, and called it a night. Her fear had been all she could think about that first night, sleep only coming after she cried every last tear from her eyes. There was no more crying after that. She decided that following morning, when she watched him carefully, that she couldn't continue being used.

She decided then that maybe this man was an angel in disguise to help her. Of course that thought went out the window when she asked him to teach her to be strong. He only laughed and told her to continue getting fucked; _it was what she was good at_. But she was persistent; and he became annoyed. When he saw her run was when he decided she would be partially worthy.

She closed her eyes up tight once again, listening to the world around them. Her mind wasn't blurry anymore, her focus returning faster than she had anticipated. She stretched from time to time, wiggling her fingers making sure blood was still in them. Just as she was about to open her mouth and ask what he had planned he moved.

First he stood up straight, his back popping from the hunched position he had been in. He didn't look in her direction but rather straight up. Her eyes followed his sight and she noted the blowtorch that Johns had left in his haste. Before she could formulate a plan that involved using her feet he was popping his shoulders out. She scrunched up her face in disgust; readily aware of the ease in which he popped them back in. That kind of action would make her vomit.

He grabbed the torch in his descent to the floor, unhooking his hands instantly. The blindfold had slipped down to his neck. He went to work on his feet, standing up and stretching as the anklets fell around him. He snatched up the goggles that Johns had stupidly hung nearby and turned to her. Riddick's eyes traveled over her body, dipping down her torso to her ankles and then back up. She looked down at herself hoping to find what was so appealing but only noted that her clothes were covered in dirt and... _blood._

Fiona furrowed her brows wiggling around a bit trying to find the source of the red liquid on her waist. The fabric of her shirt brushed over the cut and that's when she felt it. A whimper was trapped in the back of her throat but she suppressed it, only screwing up her face in pain. Apparently the drugs also had the ability to make the rest of her numb too; surely she would have felt that earlier.

Riddick stepped forward, his eyes on her waist. His warm fingers felt like fire on her skin as he pushed her shirt up enough to inspect the wound. She watched him, his closeness nothing of shock to her. When she was injured he helped clean her up; nothing too serious though. She figured if it was life or death he would let her die as he ran as far as he could to get away. She wouldn't blame him.

He ran his thumb over the tender flesh and watched as she scrunched up her nose at him, giving him a nasty glare. It only brought out a smirk on his face.

He used the torch on her wrist cuffs, watching as she pulled down her shirt the second she was on the ground. They stood for a second before his hand enclosed around her arm, pulling her carefully out of the ship. They avoided the group as best they could as they rounded the ship.

“You know what to do.” And that she did. She nodded her understanding and started off in the opposite direction of him. She didn't look back, knowing that she would only see the wasteland that was this planet. Her feet fell silent on the sand as she charged across the desert.


	3. Chapter Two

Fiona bent down to scoop up the yellow sand, running the only substance that held any abundance on this planet in her fingers before letting it leak out. Her eyes scanned the landscape she had been walking towards for thirty minutes now, nothing significant changing.

She repeatedly glanced back, making sure no one was following. Her eyes continued to only meet a repeat of what was in front of her, the only subtle difference being the tracks she left. At first she was going to erase them but the chances of her getting lost out here were high considering the vastness.

Her eyes traveled back to facing forward, catching what had made her stop. She had only seen something similar to it back home, but much smaller than this. Ant's created mounded entrances into the earth full of tunnels; ants did not make this. It stood four feet taller than her, the dirt packed thick but the top layer still crumbling at the slightest touch.

She brushed her fingertips over the surface of the strange spire, eyes traveling over the many replica's not five feet from where she was. They scattered out in a strange pattern, all of them varying in height.

What ever had created these had used some kind of liquid to mold and support the structures. Just as she was about to continue on she heard the smallest of noises. In the estranged silence she was the only one she assumed that would be making noise.

The scuttling continued like nails trampling over ground. Fiona stood up completely, leaning into the spire, temptation to press her ear to the dirt. The warmth was flush against her face, the scuttling amplified in her ear instantly. She could hear strange clicking noises now. She pressed closer, hoping to hear more and make sense of it.

The dirt crumpled out from under her ear creating a landslide on the rest of the structure. She jumped back just in time, the spire crumbling before her, a giant hole at the base visible. The scuttling and clicks were accompanied by hellish squealing screams before it all died down instantly. She had seen a flash in the upset darkness, something gray shooting past the hole. Fiona stood absolutely still; her heart thumping away as she contemplated what kind of animal could create a noise like that.

It only took her a few minutes to decide it wasn't worth it; she ran.

With the spires behind her she followed her tracks back, trying to put the noises out of her head. Her breathing however, as it had been since she started out this direction was labored. She was forced to stop running, her chest aching from the lack of oxygen and the strain. She dropped to her knees, grumbling at the stupidity of this all. If only she had stayed closer to the ship.

Riddick crossed her mind and she knew he wasn't having complications. He would be handling this like it was a walk in the park, probably miles off by now. If he found anything he would keep it, best bet though she assumed he wouldn't. There wasn't much to this planet in regards to anything, so he'd be heading back to the ship to gather what ever he could.

 _And she'd be there_.

It never failed; she always found him. The split up routine was common when ever they found themselves in a new place. A few hours out searching and then return. She would be lying if she said she knew he would always come back; because she really didn't know. The dread always sank into her when she waited long past the usual time.

Picking herself up Fiona continued back towards the ship.

She perched up top on a higher plane, looking down at the ship that they had crashed in. The remains of it were nothing compared to the size it was previously. The front was buried in the earth, all the back compartments ripped to shreds. A giant tail of debris visible as far as the eye could see. It was littered with metal compartments, belongings, and the bodies of the dead; _all lost._

She watched as one of the survivors pulled along a giant piece of slate from the ship, bodies wrapped in fabric on top of it. He was struggling, hauling them off to a giant hole in the ground. She watched with bored interest, eyes scanning for the others but she didn't find anyone. When the man jumped down into the hole she got up and made her move.

The run to the ship was easy enough; she slipped into the back half where Johns had picked her up. The shade was comforting as apposed to the overbearing sun that waited outside. She looked around for anyone in the small compartment, but she found nothing but the dead. Looking out at the landscape through a hole in the ship she checked her surroundings, hoping to see someone.

Gunshots rang out in the small area and she froze. Silence followed them, as Fiona inched her way to the edge to possibly get a better look at what had happened.

“It's just another passenger from the crash!” The voice was young and panicked. Fiona furrowed her brows, inching along the outside of the ship to see if she could see anything. She stopped abruptly when the man who had been hauling the sled came into view, a body being dragged behind him. She was used to the dead; the smell and the look. She watched as he wrapped him in an old piece of shipping cloth, nothing fancy.

“Put him with the rest Zeke.”

The man nodded to the woman's voice that was out of Fiona's eyesight before placing the body on the metal sled and dragging it off in the same direction he had taken the others. Fiona watched him go, the young one that she had heard earlier stepping out of the ship and taking a few strides in his direction before stopping. The boy held a hand up above his eyes, trying to block the sun that was streaming from all directions.

He had a weapon of sorts in his hands. As he turned to head back into the ship his eyes caught a hold of her and he froze. Fiona was caught between wanting to run and wanting to fight. She could easily take the weapon from the boy and put him on the ground before he knew what hit him. She wasn't entirely trained properly but a few years with Riddick had taught her a thing or two.

The boy's features however grew less rigid and he stepped towards her, a small smile on his face. He didn't seem to know.

“What is it Jack?” The thick accented woman called out to the boy, her feet dropping down from the ship onto the sandy terrain.

“A woman. She doesn't look too good.” Before Fiona could dart off the woman she had assumed earlier had told Zeke what to do was standing in front of her, a look of confusion on her face. It only took her a minute to realize who Fiona was, her face setting into a cold stare as she held up the ax she had in her hands.

“We're not partial to criminals, especially the one's who get out of lock up. Why don't you take a seat down over there.” The woman jerked her head towards a shipping crate and Fiona nodded, heading over to the box and sitting down. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, chin resting in her hands. She couldn't help the small smile that sat pleasantly on her face as she watched the boy scurry over behind his protector.

“Is that one of the criminals Shazza?” His voice was awestruck however, not matching his actions. He didn't seem to believe.

“Yes Jack. Fetch me some rope.” The boy hesitated, his eyes on Fiona in a weird kind of excitement. She quirked a brow at him and he brandished a blush before darting into the ship.

“How about you don't; I don't like being tied up.” She tried to keep any hint of sarcasm out of her voice, but it wouldn't have mattered; Shazza was a loose cannon. Her face only grew angrier as she stepped forward, the ax ready to strike. Fiona was prepared though, this wasn’t her first rodeo. She was sizing her up, mapping out her weak spots, planning her detailed approach pending on which way she swung that ax. As the boy stepped out of the ship, rope in hand, more gunshots rang out in the silence of the planet.

Shazza's eyes grew wide, the ax slipped from her hands and she yelled the man's name before running off towards the hole. Fiona did not take her eyes off of the boy, the rope in his hands slack as he watched the woman who was supposed to protect him run off. She jumped down from the shipping box and snatched at the rope before Jack could say or do a thing.

A skinny, tall man stepped out of the ship behind the boy, his glasses misshaped on his face. “When do you think -” His words halted when he looked up, realizing they were in new company.

“Paris this is one of the criminals. Criminal this is Paris.” Jack’s voice was sarcastic enough, warranting him a glare from Paris.

“Pleasure is all yours; my name is Fiona.” Jack nodded; Paris only stood absolutely still, his glasses still crooked on his face. “Now am I going to have problems?” Jack shook his head vigorously watching the rope as Fiona played with it in her hands. “Good, do you have anything to drink?”

“We do.” The weasel of a man procured a bottle of alcohol, stepping forward slowly and handing it to her. Fiona snatched it from him, chuckling as he hurried back, behind the young boy. So much for guarding the innocent. Just as she popped the top and took a drink the sliding sound of the sheet metal hit her ears. She turned, watching as Johns of all people hauled the giant sled behind him, his eyes glancing up from time to time. When he spotted her he stopped, his gun up instantly. She felt like a teenager girl again, getting caught behind the bleacher’s making out with all the boys.

“I'm not hurting anyone Johnsie-boy, no need for the big gauge.” He didn't like that nickname much. He walked up to her instantly, the but of the gun hitting her in the side of the head before she could say a word. She dropped to the ground in a heap, a sadistic grin on Johns face as he tossed her on the sled next to Riddick.

* * *

Fiona jerked awake, screaming out from the obnoxious pain in the back of her neck. She barred her teeth in a nasty growl as she moved her wrists only to find them pinned up as they had been before.

“I thought we were past this.” Fiona muttered, her eyes opening to peer around the new location she was in. Back to square one. The metal pole that Riddick had been attached to was in front of her, but no Riddick. Instead Johns stood there, watching her wake, a grin on his face. She spit out what blood was in her mouth, steadying her eyes as best she could on him. The right side of her face hurt, probably bruised from where he had hit her.

“You know me. Tying up girls is a sport.” Johns stepped forward and slammed a fist right into her stomach, unannounced. Fiona screamed out in both pain and shock, spitting up more blood from the cut on her lip and gasping for air. He stepped back from her swinging body to smile up at her, a shit eater’s grin on his face.

“YOU FUCK HEAD!” Her voice resonated in the small area, her throat burning raw. The title she had given him only fueled him to hit her again, her body swinging back and forth from the force. She stomached the pain of the second hit, refusing to scream.

“I'd watch my mouth princess, I'm not in the mood for your shit out here.” He stood for a second longer to watch her before stalking off out of the ship. Fiona struggled with the cuffs on her wrists, trying to pull herself up and maybe break them; but it was useless. She could hear Riddick in her head telling her to stop and conserve energy so she did just that. Slumping down she tried to take her mind off the pain, spitting out blood and saliva before licking her lips.

“He must of hit you hard, been out for a while.” Fiona looked up at the rumble of his voice. She stared into the black goggles of Riddick, his arms crossed over his chest. At first she thought she was hallucinating; there were no chains on him. He stepped forward, uncrossing his arms and placing both hands on either side of her face.

She felt defeated; all of her energy drained; but she couldn't show him she was weak. If she was weak he would leave her and then where would she be? Back on the streets...

His thumb brushed over her lower lip and she hissed when he hit a cut there.

“You gnaw at your lips in your sleep, did you know?” He chuckled when she looked at him confused, pulling her lower lip into her mouth to suck on the cut. His hands slid up her arms carefully, a key in one of them. She watched his face as he watched his hands, unhooking the cuffs and letting her drop. He didn't back down however, his goggle covered eyes falling back on hers as they stood in complete silence.

Her body was shaking from the hits she had endured. Her stomach was probably black and blue, bruises from the blue-eyed devils fists; she had had worse. She shakily brought her hands up and pulled back her hair, securing it with a rubber band she always had on her wrist. Riddick only watched.

* * *

Riddick's POV.

“Go unlock your bitch.” Johns took back his gun, slamming keys into Riddick’s chest before stalking out of the ship. Riddick only stood there for a moment longer before pulling his goggles over his eyes and heading in the direction he had heard her screams.

Fiona had been a mistake at first.

Her abilities were hidden under her stumbles, her insecure behaviors in every move that she made. She tried so hard to do everything right that she seemed to always get things wrong. But she picked it up over time and he stopped doubting her abilities. At first he only needed her to get him off Targus, as she had a ship he could take. He was originally going to leave her on the docking station and fly off with her cruiser but there was something about her that had him letting her tag along.

When he saw her, a anger presided in his every being. Her wrists were secured above her, head hanging down. He could see the bruises on her stomach forming, her shirt hitched up. He stood there for what felt like hours, watching as her body swayed and her eyes stayed closed. She didn't even sense his arrival; he knew she was exhausted.

“He must of hit you hard, been out for a while.” Her head snapped up out of alarm, her eyes finding him instantly. There was happiness in them at first but it slowly washed away with a determined strength that she always kept when he was around. He wanted to tell her she didn't have to be strong; not after that. He stepped forward carefully, reaching up and placing his hands on either side of her face. She watched him confused, her body trembling.

He brushed his thumb over her lip, a cut there stinging; she hissed. Whenever she slept she would gnaw at her lips. He never brought it up as half the time it stirred something deep inside him.

“You gnaw on your lips in your sleep, did you know?” _And moan._ He kept that to himself, chuckling when she pulled her lip away from his touch, sucking on the wound. He slid his hands up her arms slowly, unhooking the cuffs, aware that her eyes stayed on his face. He carefully lowered her, not missing the shiver that shot through her as she swayed slightly. He stayed close, watching as she pulled up her hair with trembling fingers, wincing.

He reached up and brushed a thumb over one of her bruises, growling deep inside himself. She didn't speak as he hiked up her shirt, looking at the yellow tone her stomach was already taking on.

“I'll have to kill him you know, after he's done this to you.” Her eyes were searching him for some explanation but nothing came from her lips. Maybe that's why he kept her around. She was strong, smart, and knew when to shut up. He wouldn't tell her he couldn't let her go because she made him feel something.


	4. Chapter Three

Fiona's eyes shot back and forth between the two suns that were rising; the blue orb that had been high in the sky earlier was now departing off the edge of the planet. She was only permitted to stand still for a second longer before Johns shoved her forward, a leering look upon his face asking her to make his day. He wouldn't go as far as to physically abuse her in front of everyone but Johns was good at saving up pay backs and he was sure to illicit her reward when they were off planet heading to slam. Her eyes traveled back to Riddick who was taking up the rear. He enjoyed it back there - keeping an eye on everyone.

They were trekking off to some little village the scavenger group had stumbled on before being pulled back to the ship at the sound of gunshots. Fiona wanted to ask Riddick if he had gotten that far as well before turning back, but Johns made sure to keep them apart the second they exited the ship. She was forced into helping the shaky woman who had lost her husband, not a single word emitting from her lips the majority of the time unless they were orders.

The kid was made to help them too, so Fiona learned a lot about his nervous ticks, watching as he helplessly tried to channel his condolences into Shazza, since she wouldn't listen to him talk.

Fiona just wanted to talk to _him_. What he had said in the ship had not been explained, neither had his actions. She had been chained up, bruised, beaten, showing so much weakness and all he had had for her was something she had never seen from him. And she knew, no manner of prying would get a true explanation from him, but she could take the smartass one and turn it over and over in her head until she decided on what he meant. This being in the dark business was never good and here she was, wading in confusion knee deep as he walked behind them his eyes ever glued on her. She'd never been the self-conscious type.

“So just like that. Wave your little wand and he's one of us now?” Paris shoved his glasses up on his nose, glancing back at the shadow that loomed behind them all.

“Didn't say that. But least this way I don't have to worry about falling asleep and not waken' up.” Johns’ southern drawl was showing as he looked over to Paris, noting what he meant was sinking into the man's mind. He was going to make them all afraid of Riddick if it was the last thing he did.

“So can I talk to him now?” Jack perked up, taking his attention off Shazza for a moment. Both Imam and Shazza answered with a resounding no. Fiona cracked a smile, watching as the pout formed on the boys face. He was so young, and so soft. His idolizing of Riddick wasn't in the plans as the rest of the adults were realizing just how impactful the murderer was.

“You think that's funny do you?” Johns grumbled from beside her, shooting a look back at Riddick as if to check if he was still there. It didn't seem right, the bounty hunter leaving his bounty out of sight behind him, but she wouldn't ask about that now. Johns never trusted anyone so why would he start now?

“It's a charming endearment if you're looking for an answer.”

“We don't need another you. Love sick kids tripping over murderers like they're candy.”

“I suppose we all have our vices Johns, you feeling alright?” He was shaky, his hands the most evident. The settlement was just in front of them and she could see the longing for a little pick me up coming to him. He didn't shoot a glare at her, didn't respond to her chiding whatsoever. He merely pulled her along, ending the conversation there as they descended out of the bone graveyard and the valley onto the settlement they had found.

The highlight of the trip was the skiff. Everyone pooled around the able body device, wings ripped up, hull needing patched, like it was the saving grace of the day. Which in most cases it would be but judging by its capacity and the amount of people around, it was no secret that not everyone would be fitting.

“Little ratty-ass.” Johns muttered, kicking the side of the skiff and shaking his head in disappointment.

“You expecting a first class freighter Johns? Hold in a bit longer I'm sure the search party for you will show up eventually.” Fiona tempted stepping into the ship, smiling at the glare that Johns was sending in response her way. She might as well rack in the points while she had the time to take the shots; the payment would be fair considering how pissed he was looking.

By looking at it, she could tell that the skiff needed the cell to run the system check but it would need a lot more to get off the ground; if it could get off the ground. She could see in the shadows inside that the power cells were drained, all of them needing replaced. Her fingers were itching to slide over the buttons and figure out the problems. There was only one thing she loved doing more than flying and that was fixing up the flyers themselves.

“Nothing we can't repair—so long as the electrical adapts.” Carolyn made her authoritative response and took center stage.

“Not a star-jumper.” Shazza put her two cents in, looking up at the captain with a reassuring smile. They all seemed to put so much faith into the two figures that were taking steady control of the situation.

“Doesn't need to be. Use this to get back up to the Sol-Track Shipping Lanes, stick out a thumb. You'll get picked up.”

Fiona chuckled as Riddick spoke, his words like a knife cutting up the good feeling of the situation. Everyone turned to him like they had forgotten he was there, remembering slowly of what he was, his features dead cold as they always were. His eyes remained forward, looking directly at the captain as she registered his knowledge of her past time. “Right?”

When the captain denied a response, finally asking for the help she needed to get that cell up into the ship, Riddick was ready to assist. Fiona cut in front of him though, missing the eyes of Johns as she took a hold of the power cell and hoisted it into the ship with the captain. Her eyes quickly scanned the insides, taking note of the system, of the configuration, and of what she knew exactly about the skiff. She'd need to actually play around with it to put her assumptions in a better position. With Johns focusing on Riddick she had time to get a complete understanding of the shit-shooter that was their saving grace.

Johns had stopped Riddick, directing him off to one of the buildings to look for supplies, as expected. When she could see all she needed her eyes moved to Riddick's retreating back, watching as he wandered off, following directions so easily. She furrowed her brows, not fully understanding the depths of the deal he had obviously made with Johns. She wasn't the curious type, especially when it came to Riddick, but this was personally gnawing at her.

“Now now Fiona. You know better than that. I'll help the captain, you go find something else to toy with.” Fiona frowned, stepping down the ramp. Johns was the only one in the known verse it seemed that connected two and two together when it came to her abilities. She had actually been startled when he realized she was the main pilot of the duo. He was smarter than he looked, sometimes.

They were all scattering now. Fiona watched as the holy man and his boys trekked around the outer exterior of the town, the scrawny man behind them. Jack stood absolutely still, trying to make up his mind on following the mini search party or keep to Shazza's side. He picked the latter, siding up next to her when she headed into a shaded little building off to the side.

Fiona headed in the direction Riddick had gone, not noticing it directly. Not all the buildings had doors and the ones that did were unhinged; ajar. Just by looking in she could see the wasted food, clothes, and supplies that had been left in haste.

“Didn't let you stay either?” He always surprised her. He enjoyed it too; time after time; it was easy for him. He stood directly behind her as she looked into yet another abandoned room, this one looking like a medical station. She only nodded, stepping into the shadows, eyes sliding over all the items looking for anything that could be helpful.

Gauze, bandages, she found a cheap first aid kit under the dust. Her cut was still nasty, still needing to be cleaned. She could feel his eyes on her as she set out what she would need, pulling up the edge of her shirt and looking down at her abdomen. Her entire waist was a mixture of dirty skin and bruises. She frowned as she slid light fingers over her flesh, hitting the tender cut, hissing at the pain.

“Not winning Miss America today…” She assumed her comment went on deaf ears.

When his warm callus hand took hold of hers and pulled her fingers away she looked up at him confused. He put her hand down at her side, taking the edge of her shirt and pushing it up further, rolling it so it wouldn't drop. She watched as he rummaged through the first aid kit, taking out a small bottle of alcohol followed by the mini tube of Neosporin. He pushed her back slightly, her butt hitting the table.

“I can do it myself.”

This Riddick scared her. He wasn't meant to be nice and she didn't now how to function with him having even a slight caring bone in his body. She needed him to walk away and leave her be so she could put herself back together without anyone watching. Her nicks, cuts, and bruises were her own.

She tried to push his hands away but he only managed to take hold of hers again, eyes moving up to her face. He put her hands down at her sides, his own now retreating back. He lifted his goggles off without hesitation, shine job staring her in the face. She didn't get to see him like this in such a lighted area usually.

They had a milky glow to them, white iris. They were staring into her deeply. So many nights she had seen those eyes shinning in the darkness just before someone died; usually to save them both. They took on a different beauty however, as he looked at her now. She only found herself more worried as he moved his fingers to her sides, eyes returning to the bruises on her body. He nimbly brushed his fingers over them; as if he was apologizing for them.

He wet the gauze with alcohol, giving her fair warning before brushing the gauze on her skin. She hissed, her hand latching out to his shoulder instantly. She steadied herself, scrunching up her face, fingers digging into his flesh as he continued to clean out the wound. He didn't stay just on the surface; as she watched him meticulously clean out sand that had gotten trapped in the folds of her cut.

“See, and you wondered why I wanted to do it,” Riddick muttered quietly to her.

Fiona let out a small yelp when he brushed a newly wetted piece of gauze over the cut. “Anything to make me scream.”

Riddick chuckled, using the rest of the gauze to clean up her bruises. She could feel a knot growing in the pit of her stomach; his fingers brushing on her flesh ever so slightly. She watched his fingers, the sting slowly subsiding as she became used to it. When they dipped down to her belt buckle, stopping there, she scaled his chest to meet his eyes. There it was again; that emotion she didn't understand. Her hand on his shoulder suddenly seemed so out of place, her fingers quickly pulling away from his hot flesh. Just when she thought he would finally look away, that he would finally pull away and leave her to reassemble herself, he stepped closer, his chest brushing against hers.

He put the wet gauze on the table, his fingers coming up to brush behind her ear, tucking a loose strand of hair in. She was transfixed in those milky orbs as he examined her face, anger entering his features when he noted the cuts from Johns.

“I've had worse.” She muttered it, almost a whisper. Any loud conversation seemed pointless with him this close. His eyes shot back to hers, as if she had awakened him. She shivered when his fingers slid down along the curve of her neck, tickling down her arm and ending back at her now clean waist.

“I'm not fond of him touching you.” His words held so much meaning. He took the step back away from her after grabbing the Neosporin. He spread the cream easily on her flesh, wrapping her up with the rest of the gauze and the bandage. She added what he had said to the long list of things that perplexed her about him as he slowly pulled her shirt back down where it belonged. When his eyes looked back up at her she embraced his closeness as he moved towards her again. He leaned into her this time, arms wrapped around her body, causing comfort more so than pain. He buried his nose in her neck for a second, giving her a tight squeezing before stepping back.

She reached up and took a hold of his goggles, sliding them down over his eyes to hide what she didn't want to think about right now.

“When it gets dark you need to stay close.” _I won't be coming back for you..._ the words remained unspoken but she could feel them in his tone. With a short nod she stepped back away from him, and watched as he exited the building and stepped into the blinding sun.


	5. Chapter Four

After Riddick had left her alone Fiona had wept. She broke down silently, no tears to shed, as she had no water in her system. She felt useless in this heat, in this situation. If only she could prove herself, knowing time and time again that she was a let down. It only fueled her determination however. When it was all said and done she kicked her ass into gear and headed back out into the sun.

Johns had found her instantly, directing her to “woman’s work” as he called it. Paris was all happy to have help with his scavenging but wasn’t too excited when it was her before him. It only took him ten minutes of digging in silence before he started chattering her head off with facts, knowledge, and his life story.

Fiona had remained quiet during the whole ordeal, knowing very well this conversation was for his benefit, not hers. So she listened, she took orders, and she learned, picking up the gossip that was already developing in the small group. Apparently the captain and Johns were having private conversations that the rest of the group wasn’t privy too.

“Here, use this to clean them.” Paris handed Fiona the cloth from inside his pocket. She used it to dust off the insides of the glasses he had dug up from around the cantina area, left behind at the settlement. Someone had found water and they were going to celebrate its arrival.

Johns stepped in from the sun not seconds later and put down a bottle of water on the table, smiling like a toddler who had handed their parent a fresh finger painting. Fiona glanced at the bottle for a moment but continued to meticulously clean without a word.

“It looks like you’re fitting in nicely. One could almost forget you’re a criminal with this kind of domestic behavior in front of you.” She let him make his snotty remark, the gleam in his eyes fresh from the hit he had taken recently. She wondered briefly what it would be like for him when the Morphine ran out and they were still trapped on this planet with these people and this heat.

As if a dog whistle had been blown everyone else started filtering into the tent. Johns started pouring the water into the cups, Imam handing them out one by one with enthusiasm.

“Our gift of drink!” The Chrislam’s joy was genuine, his smile leaking onto the captains face as she accepted the cup he handed her. “We give thanks in the name of our Prophet, Muhammad, peace be upon him, and to our Lord Christ of Nazareth...” Jack rolled his eyes but thanked him nonetheless when handed water. “…and to his father, Allah the Compassionate and the Merciful.”

“The strangest religion...” Paris muttered under his breath, taking a sip from his water. Fiona cracked a smile, watching as the scrawny man beside her smiled in return.

Fiona watched Riddick slip into the room, his eyes on her instantly. She felt guilty suddenly, enjoying the company of others when she needed to be working on getting out of here. The sentiment of being around others grew strong though, and she couldn’t help but feel just a little bit of jealousy for their worldly ability to talk and function normally.

Johns just about threw a glass into her hands, his scowl deep. She looked at the bottom of the cup in her hand, finding the sediment from the pump stirring around in the murky fluid. She wouldn’t complain; water was water – dirt and all. She downed it quickly, mixing the minerals around in her mouth before spitting them out discretely.

Riddick just swallowed them all, the glass back on the table without a blink of his eye. Not that she could tell anyhow, those goggles gleamed in the sunlight so perfectly.

“Perhaps we should toast our hosts? Who were these people, anyway? Miners?” Paris shuffled over to a stool, leaving Fiona alone against the table. She took the time to move herself, saddling up next to the young boy Jack, an open stool next to him.

“Looks like geologists, advanced team, moves around from rock to rock.” Shazza muttered her response, eyes looking out into the sunny world through the open cloth door. You could feel the despair dripping off of her.

“Musta crapped out here, huh?” Johns instinctively followed Shazza’s gaze, looking from her stony stare to where her eyes were directed. Fiona could all but hear his thoughts, telling the woman to get the fuck over it already. He couldn’t very well speak his mind though, so he kept his mouth shut for the most part. If only they knew the real Johns.

“But why did they leave their ship?” Jack piped up, all eyes moving to him as he quickly sunk back in his little space. Whenever he spoke everyone was quickly reminded of the youth that was in their presence. Yes Imam’s boys were young but they looked the part, their father there with them, but Jack was alone. He also didn’t seem too bothered about the death of the guardian that was required for him to get on the flight.

Fiona wanted to give him an answer herself, but she couldn’t very well do that. No one seemed to be able to really, as the sadness of the truth seemed all but obvious to everyone else.

“Well, a toast to their ghosts then...” Paris was softer this time, his enthusiasm lost in the wind around him. They all sipped on the water offered to them, thoughts of death and god swirling around in the silence. Fiona found herself tuning out the rest of the words. Riddick spoke up, said something to break the mood. She focused more on the ship just outside the room, the sun bounding off the now patched up wings.

Imam had been working on them earlier. She had wanted to help but she got caught up being bandaged. Her eyes glazed over and she quickly shut them, shaking the fog from her head. She hadn’t eaten in so long and the water wasn’t enough. Fatigue was settling in, she could feel the last of her energy reserves being burnt. She could hear the faint words, talk of death and the settlement before. Riddick’s voice barreled across the warm room and caught her attention, the sarcasm heavy as he responded to a question with one of his own. What he was implying was simple.

Everyone here had died. Died fighting, died hiding, that much they weren’t sure of, but they were all dead.

He suggested the inspection of the coring room, and just like that they all followed quickly to the shed on the other side of the settlement. Riddick hung back out of precaution, preferring to follow besides lead. Fiona slid off her stool and put her glass back on the table. She had hoped there would still be water but the bottle was empty.

As if the thing was whispering to her, her eyes returned to the skiff. She could still see it, gleaming in the sunlight like a beacon. She didn’t even look in Riddick’s direction, her new goal set as her feet carried her outside in the opposite direction of everyone else.

She climbed aboard, looking over the controls quickly. She followed the captains ghost path, finding out as much as she could. The skiff in fact had only been placed for emergency leaves. The cells were drained, either indicating the skiff had sat there running for days or it had departed and returned countless times. There was just enough power in the reserve cell to provide a systems check, a quick scan showing that it would still run.

Frustrated, Fiona denied a full systems check, knowing she wouldn’t have the time. Getting up from the seat she ran her fingers over the dead cells, realizing instantly that these were the same as in the Gratnzer. Easy, they would just need to pull five, maybe six of the full ones here. She mulled over the idea, wondering if Riddick could handle that much weight. No one knew how long they’d be out there in the tracking lane waiting for someone to float by, that extra cell might be important in the end.

She then searched the storage containers for food, finding a reserve tucked away for a few weeks. She figured the captain hadn’t found it, or didn’t want to talk about it. Tucking it back in she hid it behind the flight suits, knowing no one would take the time to pull those out.

Glancing over everything she made sure nothing was disturbed before she jumped out and high tailed it in the direction of the coring room. Her mind rambled over the ship, knowing that she could get it moving once the cells were in place. They could only take four bodies in total, so there wasn’t much room for everyone. The idea of leaving these people didn’t sit well with her, but that’s why she kept her distance. She wouldn’t blame herself in the future; survival was all she had now.

Whatever commotion had existed had faded away by the time she had joined them. The coring room doors were busted wide open, Imam on the ground just outside sobbing. Fiona treaded softly, watching as what was left of the mans sons consoled him, touching him softly on his shoulders and head. She stood a few feet from him, glancing into the open space that everyone else occupied. She wouldn’t go in, wouldn’t make it more obvious that she hadn’t been there the whole time.

Imam thanked his sons, their voices lost to her as they spoke in their own language. The man gained his strength and rose, looking down at his children and giving them each an individual hug and kiss. Fiona watched from her peripheral vision, the exchange something she was eavesdropping in on.

Jack stepped out of the coring room just then, eyes on Imam as he watched the exchange as well. There was a longing in the young boys face as he probably thought of his own parents. He turned his eyes away from them quickly, refusing to let himself stare too long. Fiona rose a brow in his direction, catching the young mans scowl before he darted off back towards the skiff.

Fiona was too busy watching Jack walk away to see the captain before the woman slammed into her. She didn’t fall, only felt a shake in her body that made each bruise and cut sting.

“...22 years...” She muttered to herself, not even apologizing before darting off to the building across the way. Fiona staggered, giving herself only a moment to think before following the woman. She slipped into the dark room, hearing the mutters of Carolyn coming from a room off to the left. She didn’t go fully in, only watching from the doorframe as the captain played with a giant replica of the solar system, the clicking increasing as she cranked the wheel on the side.

Johns shouldered past Fiona into the room, watching the display before him.

“I don’t know why I didn’t see it before!” Fry was all but hysterical, her eyes set on the small planet that had a blue flag sticking out of it.

“See what Fry? I think you need to sit in the shade for a few more minutes.”

“No, no... I won’t even need shade soon anyhow cause...” The machine continued to click and then slowly the blue flag shifted into complete darkness, the planet it was pinned into the same. “Eclipse.” Fry smiled brightly from her find, eyes glued to her fate. The smile slowly faded and realization seemed to kick it.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

“Not afraid of the dark, are you?” Fiona glanced over her shoulder at Riddick’s voice, not having noticed him before now. He was only inches from her, his goggles lifted so he could see into the room without strain. The silence was thick; Fry stepping away from the rotational system in front of her, the ticking continuing out the little planet still in darkness. Years moved passed them so quickly in just a matter of seconds and the planet still remained in darkness.

Fiona did not wait for the others to speak. She wiggled past Riddick, making sure not to touch him, pushing her way through the room. The air collided around her as she sucked in the small levels of 02, sun slamming into her quickly. Her feet dragged through the sand, heavy from strain. Her eyes glanced amongst the survivors, wondering how long each individual would last if the world was coming to an end before them. She could see the panic, the screaming. Time and time again people died, so why did the idea of these people dying bother her so?

Imam greeted her, however sad it was, when she approached him. He fiddled with the blade Johns had handed him, cutting at the last of the material they were fixing to the body of the ship.

_Why were they waiting?_

Fiona frowned, wondering why they hadn’t returned for the cells already. Even before the imminent danger of darkness had set on them, the prospects of leaving this planet was first priority. They could have gone and returned in due time with the cells, four people jumping up to get attention. _So why?_

Watching as Imam instructed his eldest son to help him Fiona grabbed at the blade on the table. It was heavy in the hilt; uneven, cheap shit Johns had picked up at some backwards market probably. He only needed it to stab, and stabbing didn’t require skill. Pretending to tie her boot Fiona bent down and tucked the blade in by her ankle. The slick metal brushed on her skin, chilled compared to the warmth that was her body.

“How’s everything going?” Johns had returned, the captain beside him. Riddick was just behind the two, his steps gliding over the sand like no problem. Everyone else was tired, confused, thirsty, but he remained unrelenting.

“I found an old sandcat. We could get it up and running, use it to transport back across the ground.” Shazza motioned for Johns to follow her, and that he did, his interest peaked. Fry headed back into the cantina, Paris inside fiddling with the empty glasses. Fiona made her way towards the skiff, sliding her hand over the metallic surface, inspecting Imam’s handy work. He had done good, his sons sitting back and admiring the work as well.

“We can go home now, all we need is the cells.” Imam’s smile was once again genuine, the mans strength another thing to be confused about. Fiona could only nod, no strength to tell him that his sons wouldn’t be able to go. Johns wouldn’t let anyone go before him and his bounty, and he needed a captain he could trust to fly them. No. Imam and his sons would not fit.

With the work down the young boys continued to play, Imam watching them from a distance. Jack was not with them, the young man in the cantina trying to hide from everyone. Fiona could see him easily as she made her way out of the glaring sun and into the shade. The captain was on her way out, heading towards the skiff. Watching her carefully Fiona wanted desperately to follow her, she wanted to partake in that full systems check the woman was about to do. She’d have her chance though.

Watching as the back door closed she could see the glimmer of silver staring at her, a heavy weight on her chest suddenly clutching hard.

“Really child, you’d think you would want to play.” Paris scoffed, rolling his eyes at the young Jack before heading out into the sun. His delicate self seemed immutable, but he joined Imam all the same. Fiona glanced down at the young man on the floor, his back pressed against the cabinets. His eyes were on his hands, thumbs twirling around one another slowly.

Fiona moved forward slowly, sinking down beside him and landing on the ground soundlessly. Her muscles screamed at her, fully aware of this second of relaxation. She figured they knew it wouldn’t last, so they yelled for the seconds they would be getting. They sat in silence, watching the young boys outside as they made toys out of the rocks and the ground. The sun and oxygen didn’t seem to bother them at all, the two guardians watching over them both draped in layers.

“I can’t believe they’re keeping all of those robes on in this heat.” Fiona shook her head, sighing deeply. “It’s too fucking hot for what I’m wearing let alone all that shit.”

Jack cracked a smile, looking over at the young woman who matched his height. “Keeping up appearances I suppose.”

“Yeah, but come on. God wouldn’t want Imam to sweat his every last ounce of being out. But you know, I wouldn’t want to imagine either of them half naked. So maybe the robes are a good thing.”

“That there is an image I’ll never get out of my mind. Thanks.”

“No problem kid.”

“No. Please don’t.” Jack scrunched up his face, rolling his eyes and sighing. “Please don’t call me kid. My dad used to call me that. I hate it.”

“As you wish. Where is your old man?”

“Dead.”

Fiona nodded her understanding, eyes moving to the young man beside her occasionally, trying to gauge his mood. He was good at hiding his upset, his cold stare something trained from years of practice. Maybe he wasn’t as simple as he put out, and in that moment Fiona felt slightly connected. She couldn’t explain to him why she understood, but she just did. Some life stories just needed to stay where they were.

“I’ve always wanted to shave my head.” Fiona reached out and ran her fingers over Jacks freshly shaven skull, the prickles of the hairs uneven cut felt odd.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I don’t have balls. So I couldn’t very well go through with it. Besides, my old man would have killed me when I was your age if I had done such a thing. Balls kid. You gottem’.” In the boys eyes Fiona could see worlds. They swirled around, something in her statement a trigger to his past. She could see him reliving something, see the words on the end of his tongue as he battled with himself on what to do, what to say.

“Will you keep a secret?”


	6. Chapter Five

“If we need anything from the crash ship, I suggest we kick on. That sand-cat’s solar.” Shazza’s breeze of a voice jumped and skipped across the ground, seeping into the silence around Fiona and Jack. The two _girls_ stared at one another, the hot air around them sucking up all the commotion outside. Fiona tried to find the signs, looking at the younger girls hair, her eyes, her lips, her nose. Nothing screamed feminine, and that was what made the secret all that more powerful. She wanted to know all of the reasons, figure out the real history behind the young girl.

No time.

They both rose from their place on the ground without a word, stepping around the metal tables and empty glasses to look outside. Shazza sat in the front seat of the only sand cat she had had time to work on, the engine whirling in the sun. Fry and Paris climbed in, Imam helping his sons up onto the sides. Fiona pushed Jack forward, giving the girl a helping hand up before climbing in herself. The fit was too tight though.

When Johns joined them, insisting on being in the bed, Fiona climbed out onto the foot rail on the side and wrapped one of her legs around the roll cage support. She teetered on the edge, giving Jack a reassuring smile before wrapping her arms around the same support.

And there he was, his arm crossing over her body so suddenly as he grabbed at the bar she clung to, to pull himself up beside her. She felt his body heat, the slide of his sticky skin on her flesh, fire bursting up inside her. Everyone else in the cat focused on the tight position, the over weigh capacity, and the ground in front of them, Fiona only focused on him.

She tilted her head back slightly, bumping into his strong shoulder. She could smell him, the oddity of that pinning deep inside her as she blinked away the exhaustion in her eyes.

Before she knew it they were descending the great big hill into the valley of bones. Shazza floored it, sending the cart into midair at moments, jostling everyone on board. She slammed into bones, toppling through the weak structures without a blink. They bounced off the roll cage with no problem, the shards descending on everyone else painfully. Fiona held on to the side of the vehicle tightly, feeling Riddick pull himself closer to the vehicle as well, in turn pulling himself closer to her. They shielded their heads from the dust and bone parts, only glancing up when Shazza announced they were out of the worst of it.

She stopped just as she drove, quick and painful. Fiona was thrust forward, the side of her face slamming into the support bar. She bit back on the pain, wincing and rubbing her cheek momentarily before climbing down. She made to move and help the others but Riddick put a firm hand on her shoulder and turned her in the direction of the crashed cargo bay.

“Help Paris.” He demanded it of her, his grip tightening as he refused to look at her. She wanted to argue for some reason, the bubbling temptation deep inside her startling. When he let go she just stood there, watching his retreating back as he followed Johns into the cell bay.

With no more hesitation Fiona grabbed Jack by the collar and pulled the girl along side her towards Paris. The man almost toppled in the sand due to his robes, but he made it to the cargo hold with Fiona on his heels. She used what ever piled anger she had to open the sliding metal door and gave Jack the stern look to inform her to shut the hell up and get the hell in.

The rebel followed orders, Paris scrambling in behind the adolescent.

“My god…” His whisper was directed over Fiona’s shoulder, her attempt to climb in herself halted so she could look back.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop...” Fry’s whisper of a command faltered as she turned towards the eclipse, the sun fading so quickly. The light, the precious light, it slipped away behind the pieces of ship, sinking into shadow and leaving them all there to be sucked into the slow darkness. Everyone could feel the end as they stopped, turning towards the darkness that was being created.

The sound.

Just in the distance, only lit by the last of the suns light, the spires exploded. Something was flying out of them, tumbling into the sky in grand numbers, greeting the night air with yearning. They leapt into the sky; touching the air so sweetly it seemed, twirling around one another as they met in dance.

Fiona felt the chill in her spin as she backed into the cargo hold, one hand still poised on the edge.

“Cargo hold! Everyone in the cargo hold!” Fry was already running, Johns beside her. Fiona did not hesitate, throwing herself up inside beside Jack quickly as the noises grew louder. The hatchlings, like smoke and ash in the air, were barreling in their direction. Johns was in next, the captain behind him, Imam catering to his son’s just inches behind her.

Only Shazza remained in the cat, trying desperately to get it to come to life, hoping that it had stored up enough of the sun to run some more, but it failed her. Riddick stood just beyond her, goggles raised to his forehead, hands at his side as he watched the dark dance in the distance that now only he could see.

“Riddick!” Fiona belted the word before she could stop herself. As if he was jogged from a dream he turned quickly, looking for her before throwing himself into gear and running. She leaned over the edge, Fry holding her back, Jack latched onto her side. He just needed to run faster.

“Let’s close it, come on, move.” Johns tried to pull her back, tried to force her out of the way as he closed the metal door half way. She refused, pushing his hand away as she watched Riddick kick up sand quickly, Shazza just in front of him. “Move you defiant bitch!” He reached down and grabbed her hair, yanking her back and out of the metal doorway. Her head slammed into the wall, black splotches filling her vision. She could hear more screaming, see the last bits of light as she regained her breath and tried to see. The world was shaking around her, the cries inaudible, and then suddenly it was black.

The warm hand on her back jostled her. Fiona tried to pull away, her body aching and tired. The spread of fingers on her skin, the heat, she was pressed up and into a giant warm mass that lifted her up completely and onto her feet.

A torch was lit, the flashlight on the end of Johns gun bright in her eyes. Riddick reached out and pushed the source of light away, his arm returning to wrap around Fiona’s waist to support her.

“What if…” The shaky voice of Jack spoke up, “what if she’s still out there… still alive…”

“Chances of Shazza knockin’ on that door anytime soon are just about zero squared.” The Blue Eyed Devil’s response put everyone into silence, the faint clicking and shuffling on the outside now audible. Fiona kept her eyes closed, her face pressed into the black fabric stretched over Riddick’s chest. She could feel his calm heart beat in her body, the rocking of his insides a testament to his human side. She would be crazy to admit that at one point in time she thought he lacked a heart.

“Why do they do that? Make that noise?” Jack shifted beside Fiona, her hand grabbing for the older woman. When she met Riddick’s flesh she quickly pulled away, backing into the captain and finding shelter in her instead. Fiona just shook.

“Echo location. It’s how they see.” The loud crash down the hall broke off Fry and everyone grew very still.

Fiona could feel the world slipping away from her. Her body ached, her muscles tired and the cuts and bruises she did have screamed. She sucked up the last bit of warmth she could from Riddick, taking refuge in his arms, a place she might very well never be in again. She wanted to stay there forever, let him protect her, if he’d go for that.

With one last steady moment she pushed away from him, straightening herself out and not missing the brush of his fingers over her cheek as he inspected her in the dark. She wished she could see him now.

The light on Johns gun circled around from where the noise had come from, to them. Everyone stared at him, waiting.

“I’d rather piss glass.”

“Well you got the big gauge.” The scope of his gun fell on Fiona as she muttered her smart-ass remark. Riddick took a step away from her, moving in the darkness towards Johns and around the others.

“Wanna rag your fat mouth?” Another slam down the hall and Johns turned. He let out a deep sigh, trying to shake himself loose before pushing forward. They all watched as he moved carefully around the fallen cargo pieces, using the light to guide him. When he turned the corner he only stared in momentarily before blasting whatever was just beyond everyone else’s visibility.

“Alright, we’re good.” With that they all moved into the second room, the small children holding onto their respective guardians tightly. Fiona followed suit, keeping herself close to everyone else, but remembering distinctly what Riddick had said. Each step was equal distance, her eyes never leaving him as he analyzed every moment and started to focus in on the people at hand.

Imam slammed the door behind them shut, the darkness encasing their breathing. Fiona quickly steadied herself, slowing down her breathing, refusing to let stress drive her lungs into angst. She had to conserve her strength.

The mechanical clicking broke the silence as Johns cursed, a cutting torch in his hands as he fumbled with the gas.

The slam of a weight on the door drove them all away from the bending metal of their safe haven. He dropped the torch, hands grabbing at his gun as he swiveled to the only strength in the room.

“Can you do sumpin’ else with that?” Fiona shielded her eyes from Johns, the light shinning brightly in her direction. She could feel Riddick just behind her, his body pressed to her back. “’Sides holding it in my fucking face?”

Johns took a hint, the slam of weight on the door throwing him off balance as he pointed his big gauge at the beast showing through the cuts in the door it was making. It was too big for him, the whole situation. She could see the shake in the man’s hands, the fear in his eyes.

Imam picked up the torch and got it to illuminate. Fiona watched as he cut a hole in the side of the room, eyes darting to the door that was collapsing in on its self. He ushered his sons through first, Fiona pushed Jack in after, and then followed quickly. She covered her ears as the gun fired behind her, shot after shot. She wanted to look back, make sure Riddick was ok, but the mere thought of her being able to protect him made her want to laugh. She launched forward, shoving Jack through the hole and deep into the compartment. Imam lacked hesitance as he cut yet another hole in the next adjoining wall, carving out another tunnel into a darker room for them to seek refuge. They repeated this again and again, Johns firing off behind them, refusing to let them stop, as he demanded more distance between him and the beasts.

The silence of the last stop cargo hold gave them a reason to discontinue. Fiona broke off from Jack, stepping a few inches away as she watched Riddick wander into the depths of the darkness, goggles on his forehead.

Her feet slipped, her eyes carrying down to the ground as she furrowed her brows and knelt down. The slim on her boot smelled disgusting. She raised her fingers up to inspect the goo, noting its hazy purple blue texture, glitter almost. She scanned the ground, finding the shell casings scattered around what looked like broken eggshells.

The clicks behind her made the hair rise on the back of her neck. She shifted slowly, looking over her shoulder without a single breath in her lungs. One of Imam’s boys was a few yards away, his back pressed to a cargo box, hands splayed over the mesh, eyes up and scared. He breathed in, horrified, his eyes growing as a giant winged animal fell upon him and took out his memories quickly.

“Hasan?”

_“Riddick?”_

The voices called out but they were too late. Fiona kept herself still as the animal feasted on the young boys meat, bones cracking under its strong jaw.

“Hasan!”

It happened so quickly. She watched as a light darted into the darkness, a light she did register right away as Johns’ gun. Shots fired, Riddick bolted, and a giant animal body was launched into the air, screeching at the pain it endured as Johns pelted four shots into its abdomen. The beast collapsed and Fiona gathered herself as it slammed into her, throwing her onto the ground underneath the great weight.

“Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!” Fry’s screams reached out into the darkness, her hectic need for safety notable in her tone. Fiona groaned, pushing at the weight on her body. She tried to lift the carcass off her, the body still writhing as it slowly died.

Clicking.

She halted, watching as another beast dropped down just inches from her head. She could feel the final beats coming from the one on top of her, the last sluggish breath as it slowly gave into fate and drifted off. The weight became loaded, the muscles lazing slack as it crushed down on her. She couldn’t breathe if she wanted to.

The second stood there stoically. Leaning down only slightly to _sniff_ at its brother. With a call into the dark its wings took flight and it was gone before Johns could find it. She pushed at the weight, refusing to die under a dead animal after having endured what she had so far.

“There...” The voices gathered closer and Fiona quickly wiggled herself out, clutching at a nearby shipping crate and using the netting to pull herself up. She grasped at the boxes, finally getting her legs free as the others came around the corner and John’s light burnished into her eyes.

“The light is scalding it.”

And that it was. Fiona only watched for a few seconds as the skin of her capturer bubbled up from the light, setting fire when left on it for too long. She turned away from all of them though, lifting herself up off the ground and taking a seat on the other side of the cargo boxes, in the dark.

She breathed in slowly, whipping at the blood that had fallen on her from the gun shot wounds. She could hear them discussing what to do, Johns taking the lead as he instructed them to shove the cargo boxes to the side, leaving a small opening in the middle for them to sit down and collect their wits. She wondered, as she sat there reminding herself how to breathe, if they realized they were back in the first cargo hold. Wondered if they knew a gapping hole was just on the other side of the boxes, creatures waiting in the other side.

Imam moved the boxes around her, the nets sliding across the floor. Hasan’s clothing was crumbled up along with them, Imam stopping only momentarily to stare down at the shredded fabric. He moved towards her, watching as she let down her hair only to tuck it back up tighter.

“I’ll get those, help the Captain.” The Holy Man had no words for Riddick, only nodded and headed across the clearing that was forming. Fiona stretched herself out, watching as Riddick turned to her slowly and stepped up in front of her. A soft glow of light shone on his features, his goggles once again on his forehead. He knelt down in front of her, eyes coming level with her stomach. She still felt so small in front of him, even though he was lower, small, compact, she felt so small.

“They’re already mating.” She fiddled with the small piece of fabric she had around her wrist. “I was inspecting some eggshells when I was toppled by Johns game.”

“They’re not all going to make it.” His voice was rough, his fingers soft as they grabbed her fidgeting hand. “They think we have enough light.”

“For what?”

“To die.” His chuckle was dark. His thumb ran over her wrist absentmindly, his eyes lingered on her face as she stared deeply into the darkness that surrounded them. She could make out the shifting of the wings; hear the clicks of the creatures waiting just outside the bounds of the light. They were hunting. “You remember what I told you?”

“Stay close when it gets dark.”

“That still stands.” His hand let go of hers, leaving a hot searing feeling on her flesh as he rose. She looked away from the dark and up into his eyes. He pushed his goggles down and adjusted the strap around his head. His eyes lingered on what she assumed was her meek stature, as he decided whether to run or to protect her.

She didn’t want to look so tired, but she couldn’t help it.

“...one cutting torch, one hand light here, two more in the cabin... I think two more...” Fry’s voice carried off as she mulled over her supplies list. Fiona lingered on the outside of the light circle, keeping her secret promise as Riddick stood just inches from her.

“Spirits.” Paris sputtered out, looking from the makeshift light pit in front of them to the captain. “Anything over 45 proof burns well.”

“How many bottles?”

“Not sure. Ten?”

“Alright. So maybe we’ll have enough light.”

“Enough for what?” Johns slid the clip back into his gun, hands sliding over the shotgun feather soft. He all but cooed it to sleep, fingers running over the flashlight at the end delicately. It was off for the time being, the beam of startling light hidden. The look The Captain gave him made him chuckle, his deep thick laugh drifting over the sorrow on everyone’s faces. “Oh lady, if you’re in your right mind, I pray you go insane.”

The southern twang and demeanor brought a scowl to Fry’s face. She looked around at everyone, trying to meet eyes with eyes but no one was looking up. Reality was facing them, the darkness was creeping in, and just beyond the boundary of it all were flying winged animals hungry for their insides.

“We can stick to the plan. If we get four cells back to the skiff, we’re off this rock.” She tried to encourage with words, only Paris looked up.

“I hate to kill a beautiful theory with an ugly fact, but that sand-cat won’t run at night.”

Johns was eating it up. If it weren’t for the insanity of the plan, or the sheer fact that moving towards him now, when he was slowly letting his cop cover slip away, would get her shot Fiona would have smacked that look off his face. A smug knowing that he was of course right, and going to come out on top. Always cocky, always jumping the gun.

“We’ll have to carry the cells.” Fry furrowed her brows, looking from Paris to the shivering _girl_ buried in her side. “... drag them... whatever it takes.”

They all looked up at those words.

“You mean... tonight? With all those things out there.”

“What about the things in here?” Jack’s eyes looked towards Fiona, glossed with tears as she shivered. She didn’t want to be that person for the young girl, but she couldn’t hide from the truth.


	7. Chapter Six

Fiona knelt down and buckled her boots. Her shaking fingers showing her unease.

The eclipsing planet had long dominated half the sky, the suns blocked completely. An impactful darkness was all around them, trying to leak in and snuff out all of the light. Johns had finally given in and the plan had been set into motion. After a fearful two-minute walk to the cargo bay they all found themselves surrounded by makeshift light and a new confidence.

Fiona felt helpless. She tried to aid, tried to contribution in hooking up the generator and positioning it on the sled, but the captain only pushed her away. Her efforts were denied, eyes telling her she wasn’t wanted, wasn’t needed, wasn’t welcome.

Riddick had become the newly appointed leader, his orders direct and to the point. They followed him obediently, the only one that didn’t like it being Johns. He didn’t speak his mind anymore; rather he kept to himself, gun ready and waiting. The hours ticked by, scratching and squalling all around them a reminder of the impending doom that waited just outside.

Fiona felt putout. She couldn’t put words to what she was thinking, but fiery hatred for them all was all that ran its way through her veins. She didn’t like their sudden loyalty, their undying need to show Riddick that he was in fact in charge. They were jumping into her world, trying to take her place, and she didn’t want it.

She gathered what little things she did have and made her way towards the man in question. He was finishing up the connects in front, helping Imam strap himself into the handmade lead that connected to the sled. The other one was meant for Johns, the blue-eyed devil waiting patiently for his turn.

Grabbing hold of the chain invention, Fiona stood in front of his, waiting. Johns sized up the situation, looking down at her hands and at the symbol of future stress that was held in them. He unshouldered his gun, leaning it against the generator before turning back to Fiona and extending his arms. She did what she had watched Riddick do, helping her captor into chains and straps. The irony wasn’t lost on either of them, the fleeting looks shared full of anger and frustration.

“You ok big blue?”

Johns hands were shaking, his forehead covered in sweat. He reached up and whipped it away, nodding his head before scooping up his gun.

“I’ve had worse.” Their conversation was hushed, a whisper over the skuttering frenzy of the others as they prepared for the trek.

“Don’t I know it.”

He watched as she hooked in the last of the shackles, pulling on the chain that connected the harness to the sled to make sure it held. He spoke no thanks, only nodded, taking a few steps back from her and focusing his attention just behind her.

Fiona turned her attention around and back to the front. Fry was busy helping Riddick strap into a belt of light that wrapped across his chest. The bulbs were positioned on his back, leaving the front open and dark. The captain was swaddling the man, Fiona irritated by her sudden need to be close to the strength in the group. She was just the first though, as everyone would eventually turn their full attention to the serial killer that was saving them.

Fiona felt no need to continue giving them their secretive moment. She moved up beside them, keeping quiet and prepared.

“Paris needs help flanking the back.” The captain regarded Paris, returning her eyes seconds later to Fiona.

“He’ll be fine alone.”

The woman wanted to buck back, her eyes closing in tightly at the obvious disobedience. Fiona could see the orders turning over in her head, the words she wanted to say but wouldn’t. It only made her smile. Riddick didn’t intervene, rather watched for a moment before turning his attention to Fiona. He handed over a knapsack, helping her wrap it over her shoulder and made sure it was secure. He reached down to tug on it, helping her make the strap tighter. It wasn’t up to his standards and she let him fiddle with it, watching as his hands meddled with the buckle. The captain watched too, stepping back after a minute of being ignored.

“I don’t like her.” Fiona watched the woman round the generator, observing the other survivors before taking her place. Riddick’s hands grazed over her neck fingers feather soft on the strap as he ran over it, checking it one last time for strength. Everyone was lost in their own worlds, eyes focusing on the only source of light that was to get them to their destination.

“Now now. She’s not all that bad.”

Fiona pulled away from him, refusing to have this conversation with him. His chuckle was deep, strangely placed in the moment.

“Lets get going.” Fry called out, a trace of a smile there. She was hopeful, something that only the gullible felt. Fiona felt bad for her. The seconds of silence lapsed, they all took in their last thoughts, said their last prayers, pushed off their last fears, and then they were moving.

* * *

It felt like days. Fiona kept pace with the giant man beside her as they pushed about ten feet in front of the others. The bumbling light source behind them was holding strong, Johns and Imam pulling it like mules. Jack and Fry were on second flank, Imam’s remaining sons and him on third, Paris taking up the rear.

The darkness was looming, winged beasts just on the outside of the light. Waiting. She caught glimpses of them from time to time, so far away from the large light source that she could see only their silhouettes just outside Riddick’s light range.

“That girl back there is bleeding.” Riddick’s voice broke through the darkness so quietly. Fiona went through her mental inventory thinking of when Fry may or may not have gotten cut and couldn’t piece it together. She fretted for a moment longer before remembering the age of Jack, and what could very well be happening to her.

“They can smell her.” Her own voice sounded weak, Riddick didn’t seem to notice.

“Got our scent now. Shoulda blown the cap on that bluff from the get-go, saved ourselves this struggle.”

“She’s just a child.”

“Doesn’t stop her from being a struggle. They smell her.” Riddick glanced back, slowing his pace to a walk. “They want to devour her.”

Fiona stared at the man beside her, trying to decipher exactly what he meant. So much meaning hidden behind his words, things unsaid, unfinished. Maybe though, maybe there wasn’t all this meaning that she was searching for. Maybe he meant it the way he did. Maybe he would bump off Jack and call it a night, leave the body behind for bait, string her up and drag her.

But what had stopped him before? _She’s only a child..._

She furrowed her brows, clutching onto the bag tightly.

“Riddick, Riddick.” Fry’s call out to him pulled both of them to a stop as they turned around and awaited the small group to join them. Riddick quickly lowered his goggles over his eyes.

“Where are the sand-cat tracks? Why aren’t we still following them?”

“Saw something I didn’t like.” Riddick kicked at the sand, settling a bored stare on the worried captain.

“Such as?” Johns shifted his gun from shoulder to hand, looking into the darkness around them for any sign of distress. But there was nothing, just silence. They were there though, in the blanketed hush, waiting for someone to slip. Hungry.

“Hard to tell, sometimes... even for me... but looked like a bunch of those big boys chewin’ each other’s gonads off. Thought we’d swing wide. Okay by you?”

“We went around what?” Paris swung wide, throwing himself around, the torch in his hand. He was in the back because he was the most skittish. Each movement was a flail, and if he wasn’t left by himself he would likely kill someone before one of those beasts got a chance to.

“Let’s move.” Fry held onto the small girl beside her, latching onto the bleeding child, completely unaware of the danger she was in.

Fiona turned her back to the large group of people, deciding rather to watch the darkness just inches from her and Riddick. She could see the animal there, a large one, balancing on the edge of the light. It swayed from left to right, watching precariously, waiting for someone to step into the darkness. She thought maybe he was testing the boundaries, pushing closer in, trying to figure out exactly how much of the halogen glow he could take before it hurt too much.

When it stepped closer Fiona grabbed Riddick’s arm. He was alert instantly, turning towards her and pulling her closer as he looked from the survivors and into the darkness.

“Can we switch?”

“What?” Fry turned around, looking back at Paris. “Switch what?”

They were unaware of the beasts that had stepped up on the edges. Fiona’s tongue was stuck in her throat as she looked from in front to her left, watching as another one stepped up on the edge of the light. Their faint outlines were enough to chill her blood, their size twice that of Riddick.

“I think I twisted my ankle running backwards like that. And I’m not sure I can...”

Their argument took the back seat as Riddick and Fiona looked to the right and saw yet another one. Fiona didn’t struggle as Riddick pulled her flush to him, a shiv in one hand, the other around her and buried in the fabric of her shirt. She could feel the erratic spray of his heartbeat, his eyes seeing more than what she could. She looked away from the creatures and up to him, watching as his glowing eyes bounced back and forth, f _rom creature to creature._

It happened so quickly.

An incoming spray of wings, a loud squeal, the slice of scythe blades. Fiona was pushed to the side, Riddick letting go and slicing at the creature. It swerved to the side and missed his reach, slamming into the generator and knocking it to the edge. As the light slowly faded the screams picked up. Fiona huddled close to the ground, watching as the blue glow dissipated. She picked herself up quickly, fishing in the bag for something useful. Her fingers tipped over a blade and she quickly pulled it out, putting the bag on her back and crouching low.

The residual light was enough to see in. She moved forward, running towards the generator and tipping it back over. The bodies around her reaching out attempting to help, but they were of no use. Fry kept commanding orders, demanding that they huddle in close, but the chaos drove everyone to their own solace.

Fiona used all the power that she had to pick the beast of a generator up and slide it back onto the sled. Her fingers fumbled with the switches, finding the reset there at the bottom. Paris’ scream did not go unnoticed but she refused to be devoured in the night. With haste she flipped the switch and stood up quickly, pulling the chain to start up the genny.

As the light slowly slid back into the tubes the knowledge that one was gone spread over them all. Fiona stood stoically, the blade in her hand, eyes bouncing around the area, looking for another one of those winged terrors to shoot out of the sky.

“This thing ain’t going to last another ten minutes.” She looked to Fry as she took a few steps around the device and moved back towards Riddick. The captain nodded, gathering the other bodies around the generator and quickly formulating the second stage to the plan.

Johns was just feet from Riddick, gun pointed into the darkness, both of them watching a spot just outside the reach of light.

“What is it Riddick?” Fiona stepped up beside him, tucking the blade he had stored in her bag in the waistline of her pants.

“60 years of hunger.”

* * *

“Canyon ahead.” Riddick’s breath was labored, the others running ragged. The generator had been tossed aside hours ago, the only light they had, alcohol bottles, currently burning bright in their hands. Fiona had refused to take a torch when offered. She kept herself close to Riddick, just a few feet out from his side, eyes trained on the isolation in front of them.

The sound was picking up. What was once silence had slowly grown into a sweep of fluttering wings and squalls. They were closing in, their shifting in the shadows more notable and in higher numbers. A few of the babies that didn’t know any better had attempted to move closer but the light caught them off guard, sending them squealing into the vastness.

“Lets go.” Fry was lingering just behind them, Riddick stalled in a stance of contemplation. Fiona was secretly happy he had taken a moment, her lungs on fire. There was a pain growing in her side, hitching her lungs and making each step agonizing.

“I’ve been thinking.” Riddick put his back to the darkness. Fiona kept herself alert, knowing he was dividing up his attention. The silhouettes had all but vanished in the last few clicks, the entrance to the canyon bare. He had told her though, that the canyon was going to be a do or die situation, and she refused to let this moment get the best of her.

“About?” Fry entertained him, Johns scoffing just in the distance. Fiona looked over at him, watching as he moved towards the bone shelter six feet in front of them. He used his gun light to inspect before leaning a hand on the edifice and letting some of his weight shift into comfort.

“The girl, she’s bleeding.”

“She ain’t fuckin’ bleedin.” Johns snapped, turning around and strolled back into the circle. He looked Fry over for extra measure but found no cuts, eyes returning to Riddick for an explanation.

“Not her, you dumbass.” Fiona sneered, looking back at the young Jack who was slowly giving herself away. The tremor in the young girl was enough to make them all aware, her down cast eyes and blush the cherry on top.

“This isn’t working...” Fry turned to Riddick, hoping maybe he would understand. “We’re going to have to go back.”

“Come again?” Fiona spat out the words without hesitation, advancing on the woman. Riddick caught the edge of her shirt however, pulling her back into him. She met his flesh, not thinking to address the fact that he was openly wrapping his arm around her waist and keeping her held back in front of the others. “You want to go back after all of that? Probably shoulda fuckin’ thought about that a long fucking time ago!”

“It’s just not working. We need to regroup, get more light...”

“Woman you’re fuckin’ insane.” Johns returned again, giving up on keeping to himself. He stepped up in front of Fry, gun over his shoulder, eyes steady on her. Fiona was fuming, her hand reaching down to grip Riddick’s arm. She let out a deep sigh, her head landing back on his chest, eyes darting up to his face. He only shook his head, giving her one last tight squeeze before letting her go.

“We ain’t going fucking back.” Johns pulled his gun in front of him, leering down at Fry. The woman looked back at Riddick, hoping to find some help in him. She was sorely mistaken however, his attention being held by the petite woman in his arms, their eyes locked for a moment before parting ways. “Verdicts in. We’re moving forward.”

Fry had nothing to say, her eyes traveling down into the sand. The others huddled around her for support as Johns took Riddick by the arm and lead him out, away from them all.

Fiona found herself following, keeping just behind them. Johns glanced back to look at the survivors, eyes fixing on her for a moment. Whatever he wanted to say to Riddick he felt should be kept in private, those eyes demanding an audience with the big prize alone. She drifted back a little, granting him his little wish, making sure however to keep within listening distance. The others trailed behind her, doubling the distance even more, their chatter caught up in the wind.

“Ain’t all of us gonna make it.” Johns spoke delicately. Fiona wanted to be up there, beside Riddick, mixed in this deal. She wanted those words to be for her ears, not just lost syllables that happened to be heard. She was frustrated, irritated, and above all confused. She needed stability, the world around her closing in with a surrounding darkness. Hope was stupid, hope was useless, but stability she could stomach desiring.

“Just realized that, huh?” Riddick pulled on his belt, the lights catching Fiona in the eyes. She squinted, looking away.

“Seven of us left. If we could get through that canyon and lose just two, that’d be quite a fucking feat, huh? A good thing right?”

“Not if I’m one of those two.”

“What if you’re one of five?”

“I’m listening.”

They stepped around the first ribcage, their voices bouncing off the surface, getting lost in the space. Fiona kept herself as quiet as possible, picking up her pace to move in closer.

“...travel with them. There’s a cable on the sled. We can drag the bodies behind us.”

“Nice embellishment.” Riddick found himself chuckling. They slowed just ahead, standing on the other side of a giant skull, eyes locking. Everyone else was fifty yards away, in plain sight but at a distance, enough for them to talk about their deaths like they weren’t even there. Fiona pressed closer to the ribcage, keeping herself hidden, eyes ensnared on Riddick’s face, as he looked deep into Johns.

“Don’t wanna feed these land-sharks, just keep ‘em off our scent.”

“So which two caught your eye?” Riddick enticed a glance, his eyes mistakenly looking at the group. Fiona could feel him staring at her though, those eyes, his eyes, imprisoned behind goggles. He could see her easily, trying to hide in the darkness, trying to listen in on his big boy conversation. She wondered what he thought about that, if he would be angry that she didn’t trust him, angry that she felt like she was privy to his business.

“Don’ look for Christ’s sakes.” Johns shook his head, glaring at Riddick who had returned his attention back to their conversation. “You do the little girl and your tag along and I’ll keep the rest off your back. Lord knows you need to drop some unneeded weight.”

Fiona felt the ground shift out from under her. Her lungs caught, eyes moving sharply to the group behind her. They had stopped, mutters just barely heard among them. Fry’s distant face was full of confusion, her hold on the young girl a sign that she knew what might be happening. Fiona felt the tremble, eyes darting back towards Johns and Riddick.

“What’s her name, anyway?”

“What do you care.”

Riddick shrugged, “I don’t.”

Fiona felt her stomach churn. He hadn’t even asked why, hadn’t even argued. She closed her eyes, her fatigue getting the best of her as her body swayed.

“Then let’s not name the Thanksgiving turkey, okay? I assume you still got a shiv.”

“What, you ‘spect me to do it?”

“It’s your whore after all. What’s two more to you? Like these are the ones that gonna send you to Hell?”

The silence from Riddick didn’t sit well with Johns. The gun-toting lunatic fretted, shifting his weight, eyes darting back to the group, hands stressing through his hair. He was nerved, his impatience showing. “You losing your touch Riddick?”

“Just wonderin’ if we don’t need a bigger piece of chum.”

Fiona pushed forward, watching as the two men came to a silent agreement. Johns didn’t see her, didn’t realize she was there. She toppled him instantly, landing on his body and throwing him to the ground. The shiv Riddick had lent her was out and buried deep in the mans back. He screamed out but her strength was no match for his, his weight throwing her off him as he rolled over and tried to shoot.

Riddick picked her up off the ground, bullets landing in the sand seconds after she left it. She struggled in his hold, wanting more than anything to end John’s life. She had to show him who was weak; she had to show him and everyone else that she was worthy. Not only to be beside Riddick but worthy enough to be alive. She wasn’t just a toy to string along but her own kind of trouble. She had to prove that she wasn’t to be messed with.

When she lunged again she managed to knock the gun out of his hands. Riddick kicked it further away, the flare now between her and Johns.

“Fucking little bitch. I shoulda killed you when I had the chance.”

The darkness was stifling. Fiona kept her distance from the merc, watching as he pulled out his own knife, gripping it and moving towards her. She stepped out of his path like Riddick had taught her, dancing in the sand to avoid attach. Johns flailed, the wound in his back getting the best of him.

Fiona took her chance and picked up the flare, tossing it far into the darkness. Johns lunged, knocking her to the ground and digging the knife into her arm. She let out a paralyzing scream, kicking at him angrily, sending him backwards. His body bounded into the darkness and when he turned to continue to fight a long spear was thrust into his body.

Riddick helped her to her feet, pushing her back behind him as they moved back towards the light. He helped her sit just next to the flair, eyes bouncing back towards the merc.

“Is he...?”

“Had it coming.”


	8. Chapter Seven

Fiona hissed.

Riddick ignored her pain. The knife had left a nasty cut. The flesh was raw, breathing in the fresh air and making everything hurt even more. The edges were an inch apart, her insides showing nicely through the angry cut.

“I’m useless.” She grumbled, looking over at the cut. He had cleaned up around the edging, trying to stay away from the tender inside. She bit down and bared it, but the pain was taking away what little energy she had left. She wanted to sleep, curl up right there in the sand and put in a full nights sleep before moving.

“It needs to be completely cleaned out and cauterized.” He pulled his goggles from his eyes, handing them to her. “Bite down on these.”

She maneuvered the goggles into her mouth, eyes leering at the huge gouge. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t count out. He didn’t give her time to think about it, didn’t spare a moment between her bite and the light. He cleaned out the dust from her wound quickly, lined up gunpowder from a bullet and set it ablaze. She let out an ethereal moan from deep inside that resonated in the silence. Her teeth chewed into the durable plastic of his eye protection, the taste of his sweat invading her mouth.

Everyone else was around the skull and down the ribcage, huddled together, preparing for the canyon. The holy man had dropped by to pray but one look from Riddick had directed him on his way back around.

Fiona felt the tears stride their way down her cheeks. She gasped, arm aching triumphantly. Riddick waited no time. He had vanished into the dark a while ago, returning with a bloodied piece of cloth, and he used that to bandage her. She didn’t think much of it as he wrapped her arm quickly and tightly in Johns’ left behind shirt. Then he was holding her, stopping her from jerking off, trying to keep her steady. She could feel the faint coming on, the faded darkness just in arms reach.

“It’ll stop hurting soon enough.”

She pulled his goggles out of her mouth, shakily placing them on her leg. She whipped what tears she could from her eyes, leg bouncing from the surge of adrenaline in her system. “We’re not all you Riddick.”

“I’m only human.”

Fiona scoffed at his response. “I’m ready to get off this planet.”

“I don’t think you’re useless.” His voice was low. He ran his hand over the makeshift bandage, squeezing down on it to make sure it remained tight. When he saw her tears, eyes squinted shut, he stopped, leaving his warm hand there, hoping to help sooth the pain.

“I didn’t think you thought much of me period.” She pulled away from his touch, grunting as the muscle in her arm pulled and reminded her almost instantly of the amount of pain she would be in for the rest of the night.

Riddick took his goggles from her leg, placing them off to the side. With complete silence he slid his hands up her thighs, pulling her towards him. He knelt in front of her, drawing her close, diminishing the gap between them to mere inches. She could feel his warmth, his abdomen pressed to hers. His hands didn’t stop at her thighs; rather they slid up her sides, fingers dancing over the exposed skin before settling on her waist. She felt a shiver run its course through her body, the pain in her arm subsiding momentarily.

He had never touched her like this. In the years that they had been running, evading all evils at costs, he had never touched her like this.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was shaky. Riddick had dipped his head, presses his lips delicately to her neck. His lips trailed along her dirty skin, leaving a ghost trail that lead over her chin and back down to her throat. She tried to swallow down the feeling inside but it only swelled, growing and growing deep inside her middle. In all the years that she had been alive this feeling was something new. It blanked out all the pain, all the exhaustion, and it only intensified every little cell in her body to him.

“What does it feel like?” His voice was gravel. She could feel his words on her skin, the letters tipping over her collarbone and dipping down over her chest. His lips made feather soft work of kissing every inch, leaving the phantom feeling of their longing behind.

“Riddick.” She pulled back so she could look into his eyes, staring into the glowing orbs that beckoned her closer.

“I’m proud of you.” His trace of a voice was low key, his eyes wandering all over her face, glancing down from time to time to scan the rest of her body. She thought that maybe she would blush if this had happened years ago, but all the men she ran into these days looked at her like this. It didn’t feel the same though, didn’t feel the same at all. His eyes weren’t looking at a fresh cut, waiting to be diced up and put to work. His eyes weren’t waiting for something, demanding something from her, controlling her every move.

His eyes set fire to her skin.

She could feel him drinking her in, pulling every cell into his memory and storing what she was deep inside his mind to think about in the future.

“Come again?”

“Quit being modest. He deserved it.”

“I thought you were going to string me up and drag me behind the sled.” Her honesty stung, she could see that. His grip grew tighter on her hips and he returned his eyes to her.

“Too much muscle, they wouldn’t enjoy feasting on you.” He reached up and ran a thumb over her lips. “Besides, I’m not done with you yet.” His grin said he was joking but she wasn’t quite sure. She didn’t get to see this side of him often. They were always on the run, always fighting to hide, to be alone, to survive. He never had time to let the wall down, never had time to drop his guard. On the rare occasion she would wake up in the middle of the night on some distant strange planet, or in the back compartment of a stolen ship; she would wake up in his arms, his warmth keeping her safe, eyes shut, slumber calling out to him too.

She never spoke of those moments. She didn’t think he’d enjoy knowing little old her had woken up in his arms while he slumbered.

“I need you to stay strong.” He brushed his thumb under her chin, looking down at her lips before returning his eyes to hers. “We’re almost out but I need you to stay strong.”

“Always.”

Her words were enough.

He tipped forward ever so slightly, his lips pressing to hers. They were chapped, dehydrated, scruffy, but she didn’t care. Her body flooded with a new sense of hope as he placed his open palm on the back of her head and pulled her closer. He explored her mouth, tongue pushing into corners and edges. He took in the data from the inside out and she moaned when his other hand slipped under her shirt and caressed her stomach. Rough fingers on delicate skin her body was exploding.

“Bruises.” He pulled back, fearful.

“Yes and no.” She licked her sore lips, grinning up at him.

He had meant the world to her since the beginning of their time. He had been her savior, soon became her friend, and now he was a lifeline. She couldn’t define the relationship she had with him but what she could confess was that she would die for him. She was paralyzed with this feeling, his fingers making light work of dusting over her bruises softly, dipping lower and lower, brushing over the edge of her jeans. As his fingers dipped even lower the air caught in her lungs, his fingers gracing just between her thighs.

She hadn’t been aroused in a long time. Some sleepless nights in the past had found her hiding in a corner, running her own fingers over herself to get the feeling over with so she could sleep, but the majority of them were surrounded by fear.

“Maybe later huh?” His lips dipped back down to kiss her pulse, a grin on her skin as she whimpered and bucked her hips up towards his fingers.

“Maybe later.”

He retracted his hold on her, eyes returning to focus on the situation. She tried to gather herself, her body trembling.

“They’ll be waiting, come on.”


	9. Chapter Eight

Riddick tethered off the power cells, wrapping the ropes around his shoulders, tying them off at the front and holding on. He looked up at Fiona. He had made her go to the front, made her distance herself. It was safer up there, more secure. The beasts would swoop after they passed, go for the ones in the middle, and try for the bigger one at the end, but not her.

_It was safer._

He looked away from the woman who couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He didn’t want to take his off of her but he had to focus on getting them out. If she was smart, which she was, she’d get her ass to that ship and have faith in him to get himself there too.

“As fast as you can.” He spoke soundly, everyone in front of him turned back to watch him grip the ropes one last time and give them a small tug.

“You sure you can keep –“

“As fast as you can.” He pulled his goggles down over his eyes so he didn’t have to witness the bloody massacre that would be all around them soon enough. They moved, a fast pace set into work as death loomed just behind them. Each step a reminder of the 200 pounds he was pulling, his muscles screaming for a rest.

They dove into the canyon, pushing through the first drop of skeletal bones and making their way to the ribcage that over shadowed the path. The baby hatchlings dropped from the sky like mist, scattering over the top of them, taking nips and bites at what they could see before running scared. Riddick watched as Fiona kept as low as she could, keeping a foots distance between her and the captain as they used the light as a shield.

He welcomed the slow down as they pushed through the ribcage but he knew just on the other side of the eight towering bones was a steep climb and an open sky. As they reached it, Fry and Fiona crawling up like dogs, a feral sound exploded all around them. The swiping, the clawing, the screeching.

“Don’t look.” Riddick’s growl of a command was heard, and he noted that Fiona kept her eyes forward as she climbed. The captain however stopped, rising up from the ground before turning back to look at him. He watched as she looked up, defying him.

“Do not look up.”

The blue liquid of their blood splattered down, entrails gathering around them and he could see the horror in Fry’s face as she watched the giant cloud of predators above, waiting for the light to fade. The blue blood dripped down over her face, sliding down onto her neck, coating her hair and skin. Riddick’s voice was lost in the whirlwind, as he demanded they keep moving. The steep climb becoming more and more of a feat as the bodies all stopped, all eyes moving upward save for Fiona, who was ten feet in front, waiting at the top, watching him down below.

He wondered for a moment if this was hell.

“So dark the clouds around my way I cannot see...”

Riddick looked to the Holy Man who began to sing, his dressing gown slowly turning blue. What was left of his boys huddled around him, whipping the droplets of blood off of their skin as soon as they landed. Imam’s words were comfort to them, the soft melody drifting through the darkness, catching fire as the words slipped past the torches. “But through the darkness I believe God leadeth me. I gladly place my hand in His when all is dim, and, closing my weary eyes, lean hard on him...”

And as if the animals could understand him, as if they were taking note of his words, they pushed further down. An adult took charge and Riddick watched as the beast swiped at Fry, diving down and hitting the air that Fiona would have been standing in if she had not kept moving. The commotion caused Imam’s boys to unlatch and move around, screaming now joining the chorus of the darkness.

“Suleiman!”

And he was gone. Riddick’s eyes, his body just inches from the light, hidden by the darkness, watched the boy’s last breath. He looked to his father, reaching out, trying to stumble closer to the light for guidance, but he had no luck, no helping hand from the lord above. He was pulled back, deep into the darkness, his own screaming hidden by the noise of the things eating him.

Everyone else flailed helplessly and Riddick pushed them forward. Imam tried to retrieve his son, tried desperately to push past Riddick but he carted the man up the hill. Fiona waited for him at the top, hands dug deep in the sand, eyes watching him and her surroundings fervently. He pushed the bodies of the rest up up up, pulling the agony of his saving grace behind him.

As he reached the top, Fiona rose up to stand beside him, taking to his shadow like she always did. Her hands and arms and legs were all covered in blue blood and coated sand. She shook, her obvious need for a rest trapped in her eyes. Her eyes, set on him, were a reminder of what awaited, her trace of a smile overcoming the weight of the situation. The canyon below them has widened, a straight path leading right to the settlement, wide enough to space out their move. He could see the clearing; just a few clicks away, the skiff visible just on the outer edge.

The drops from the sky started to fall more hastily, Imam holding out a hand to catch them. They weren’t blue or red, but clear and a look of dreadfulness washed over him.

“Oh, no. No no no...”

The moment of clarity, the moment of hope was easily washed away in those few starting drops of the torrential storm.

Riddick watched as the bodies huddled together around the torches, trying to keep them lit. Fiona instinctly pulled closer to him, her arm bumping his side as she watched along side him. When they were left with just one flickering flame the roars overtook the night again.

Fry pushed the remaining bodies up against the wall, directing Imam to guard Jack as she tried to find a place to hide their only light.

“Riddick? How close?” Fiona looked up at him, her voice so oddly placed in the roars of the world around him.

“They ain’t gonna make it.”

He didn’t look at their faces; rather he searched out the place he had hidden previously. Leaving the power cells there next to Fiona, he ran his fingers along the wall and found the crevice he had secreted in, when the search party had been there.

“Here...” He pushed aside the rock that guarded the entrance, looking in at the darkness to make sure nothing was hidden inside. “Hide here.”

They didn’t hesitate to crawl into the fissure, Imam, his remaining son, Jack, and the captain all piling into the tight space. Their trust went unspoken. There was just one light among them and it sat in Jack’s hands, her eyes peering out into the darkness as Riddick pushed the rock shut on them.

He returned to Fiona, preferring not to look her in the eyes as he gathered up the cells.

“Lets get these to the skiff.”

The stretch was easy. Fiona kept just a few feet in front of him, hands latched onto the bag he had given here what felt like ages ago. They pushed down over the edge of the canyon and were met with buildings in no time. They maneuvered their way through, her body pushing harder than he could remember it ever having to push before. As they boarded the dark craft, she took her seat in the pilot’s chair. Riddick made quick work of sliding out the old cells and replacing them with new. When all was said and done Fiona flipped on all the switches and booted up the skiff.

“It’s forcing a haul check, shouldn’t take more than five minutes.”

“There’s enough light on this thing for longer.”

She didn’t question him. He expected her to. In that moment he expected her to ask him why he wasn’t returning to that crevice in the wall. He expected her to defy him, to deny him his natural need to hide from the world and run like a wild animal. He expected her to want to go back and save them all.

He hit the button to close the hatch, and returned his attention back to the front.

“System check looks good. We can fly out in two.” She looked back at him, that trace of a smile still there. Her hands hesitated on the console, watching as he stared her down.

Maybe she knew he felt guilty. He never could assume with Fiona.

The ship slowly began to wake, each light flickering on inside and setting off the next. When the head beams lit up both sets of eyes moved forward to look on to the settlement around them.

She looked weary, standing there, gulping down air that she desperately needed. Fry gathered all of her strength to bore down on them, demanding that they run her over as she stood there. In her hand was a bottle, a faint glow coming out of it. Riddick turned and hit the hatch button, letting the door open once again.

“Strong survival instinct. Admire that in a woman.” He taunted her, hands holding onto the brim of the door, watching as she gathered herself up in front of him, standing there, defeated. But there was still a fire in her eyes, and he instantly found that he wanted to snuff it out.

“You’re not leaving. Not until we go back for the others.”

He laughed, her feeble demand of him comical. In two minutes he was going to fly out, that much he knew. In two minutes he would be assisting Fiona in setting the autopilot to put them in a shipping lane. In two minutes he would be carting her back to the tiny little bed and getting his fill. He glanced back, watching as the woman on his mind stood up from her seat and joined him there on the edge.

“I promised them we’d go back with more light. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do...”

“I think you’re mistaken me with someone who gives a fuck.” He dropped his hands, one of them finding the small of Fiona’s back. He could feel the tremble in her, the uncertainty in that small woman coming off like waves. As he stood there, watching Fry formulate her response, he realized that what he had originally expected from Fiona was there. She was defying him, demanding that he return to the others, but she wasn’t vocalizing it. She was hesitating during the haul check, watching him think over his choice.

“What, you afraid?” Fry jabbed at him, trying to shame him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Confusin’ me with Johns now. Fear was his money. I only deal in life and death.” He removed his hold from Fiona and took a few steps forward, crouching down just in front of her. “All that stuff in between? Some shade of grey my eyes don’t see.”

“I trusted you, Riddick.” Fry stepped forward, dropping the bottle into the sand. “Goddam, I trusted that some part of you wanted to rejoin the human race.”

“There ain’t any use in this conversation captain.” Fiona’s silence ended as she responded before Riddick could get his smartass response out. “The human race ain’t worth rejoining, you’d know that if you understood.”

“You of all people.” Fry moved her eyes and attention to Fiona now, disregarding Riddick altogether. The bigger man rose, Fiona stepping up beside him. They stood just on the edge of the cover, rain still pouring down on the captain. “As a woman, how can you let them just die out there, all alone?”

“Don’t go playing the sympathy card on me.” Fiona crossed her arms over her chest, shifting slightly so she bumped into Riddick. “I’ve long since lost that desire to care for every living breathing thing that you seem to hold so dear.”

“Ride with us or get eaten, make your choice quick.” Riddick ended the talk, seeing the anger in Fry’s eyes and feeling the frustration. He turned his back to the captain, heading up the ramp just a fraction of a step before Fiona lunged forward from her spot beside him. It shocked him, not only that he hadn’t expected her to move nor knew she was going to, and that she also had the strength.

He turned quickly to watch her slam into the captain and throw the woman to the ground. A shiv bounded from the blonde’s hand, falling into the muck of sand on the ground.

“I thought...” Fry coughed out words as Fiona pressed down on her windpipe, her other hand securing the woman’s arms. “You didn’t care about any living thing.”

Riddick was transfixed, watching as Fry gagged, Fiona tightening her grip and reaching back her now free arm. She balled her hand into a fist and just as she was about to put the world of hurt into the captain and knock her out, he stepped up and took her hand in his. She swiveled instantly, picking herself up and pushing him away from her, a scowl on her face.

“This ain’t saving those people. Let’s get this the fuck over with.” Riddick helped the captain up, turning back to Fiona who was freshly drenched and shaking. “You’re staying here.”

She opened her mouth to fight, stepped forward and glared up at him, and he met her there, in the darkness. The captain could be invisible for all they cared as he stared her down, lifting his goggles to catch every inch of her body heat in his eyes.

“I can’t afford to lose you.” He made it soft, direct, eyes drilling into her angry ones. “You ain’t got much fight left in you and I’m holding out for that to be used later. Now get your ass back in that pilot seat and get the ship ready.”

It had been years since he had given her such a direct order. His words were a wall of strength, and the last time he had done this she had trembled in front of him with fear. Now she only stared back at him with the same fiery hatred she had been giving Fry. She’d forgive him later; he needed her safe right now. 

Turning his back on her, he snatched up the light band he left at the entrance and turned to the captain, pointing out into the darkness. She scooped up her bottle, the glowing lights inside wiggling. Neither of them turned to look at Fiona as they marched into the delicate storm pushing around them, her gaze cutting scars into Riddick’s skin as she watched him walk away.


	10. Chapter Nine

Fiona uncrossed her arms for the sixth time, recrossed them for the seventh, and dropped her feet from the console for the eighth. She was done. She picked herself up from the pilots seat and headed towards the back.

It had been too fucking long.

She had wanted to scream when he took off without her. It was entirely too dark, and sure he had the darkness on his side, but she couldn’t handle it. They didn’t separate in a crisis. From the beginning of time when the situation got thick he kept her as close as possible at all times. She had been clinging to his side many-a-times when he had sliced open men.

She had wanted to pull him back to her, wrap her arms around him tightly and remind him of why he should stay. The modesty inside her won out though and she kept that to herself, the captain’s eyes already burning holes into her soul.

She furrowed her brows, hands on her hips, eyes staring out into the darkness. The woman had been right. Leaving the kids behind didn’t sit well. The adults had made choices in their life, had direction and drive to take control and move on. She knew for a fact that anyone could survive any situation as long as they had the will, but a kid didn’t have the right experience.

Riddick would come back, she knew that.

“Go go go...”

The hushed yelling caught her attention. She stepped down the ramp, watching the place Riddick had walked away in, looking for his looming figure to come back to her. She wanted him to step back through that darkness and sweep her up. She wanted him to whisk them away, slip up again into the darkness above and say goodbye to this retched planet.

Jack came barreling out of the darkness, tripping over her own feet, Imam just behind her. They didn’t even speak, just pushed past Fiona and into the ship. The captain was hot on their heels, the bottle of glow in her hands, all three of them drenched.

“Riddick...”

His muffled yell answered her question.

The rain slammed down on her as she ran into the darkness. She found the first building up on the right, and slammed her body against it to keep herself hidden. Her adrenaline pushed her forward when she heard him yell out again. She left the edge of the building and crossed the huge path to the other side, pressing up against the coring room. The sand slipped out from under her feet and the rain pelted down. She could hear the squeals in the air; the thrashing of what could either be wings or the wind picking up all around her.

The creature fell out of the darkness and right into her. The body smashed her up against the doors, flinging her into the darkness through them. She tumbled over and right through the giant grate hole. Her hand reached out, catching the edge of the grate, eyes moving up quickly. She could hear it, snuffling around just outside, looking for her. It was dark, pitch black, the only light source the faint glow of a dead glow stick just at the bottom of the core. She kicked to and fro, reaching out her toes for the edge that she could faintly see. A three foot thick line of brick reached out to the second gate, another row just a yard below it reaching out to the third. When she caught the ledge with her foot she let her hand free, slamming into the grate just below.

The chains rattled under her hands, the gate at the very bottom shook angrily. The loud screeches wracked her brain and she covered her ears, curling up tightly, trying to avoid the noise. They thrashed against the gate below, trying to pull the chained doors open.

She shook, unwrapping her arms quickly and skirting over to the edge to grab the flare that hadn’t given up just yet. She found the ladder up, putting the flare in her mouth and started up. She had to get out, had to make it back up to the surface and find him. She couldn’t hear the outside world down here; the only sound the swirl of screaming and swiping. When the gate slammed shut she halted.

The claws clanked on the metal and griped the grid of the grate. She could see the gleam of the moon on their smooth surface. It called out in the darkness, shaking off dust and exhaustion, seeming to take a seat there on the top. She tried to slow her breathing, watching as the creature looked around the edges of the outside. It unfurled its wing, letting their full span show, as it tilted its head back and listened to the grappling below.

Her hands slipped on the ladder and she gritted her teeth, trying to figure out what to do now.

* * *

Riddick pushed the captain forward, forcing her into the light of the ship. He toppled forward, gripping his abdomen where the beast had sliced him. The pain was explosive. He could feel it in his bones, each muscle of his body spasming around him. He covered his eyes as best he could, goggle’s trapped around his neck. The kid grabbed his arm and with the help of the Holy Man they yanked him up into the skiff and closed the door.

He could hear words, the slurring of yelling going on around him. The final words were dropped and the ship went up, light flooding around them, his stomach turning as the ship took air.

* * *

Fiona fluttered her eyes open, pulling in air quickly. She thumped up against the wall, frantically looking for some kind of understanding. He wasn’t there; he wasn’t in the darkness, wasn’t watching her, he wasn’t holding her. Her shaking hands reached out into the eternal obscurity for something, anything, and she felt the air catch in her lungs as she grabbed at air.


End file.
